


[TFTG] An Escalating Series of Dildos

by CharlieGM



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Plug, Corruption, Dildos, Dogs, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Growth, Masturbation, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Romantic Comedy, TFTG, Transformation, Transgender, bimbofication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 03:48:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30133536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlieGM/pseuds/CharlieGM
Summary: A good boy from East Sussex buys a dildo from Amazon on a lark. Said dildo hypnotizes him. After one too many assfucking sessions, it corrupts him into a delightful, bimbofied fusion of Hatterene and Gardevoir.Gamefreak just casually fucking up people's lives during the pandemic, it's quite rude~Word Count: 8,746Tags: TF/TG, Male to Herm, Pokemon, Anal Play, Hyper (genitals and anus), Gardevoir, Hatterene, Slow TF, Bimbo, Speech Play, Mental Changes, Gas, Masturbation, ExplicitRated Adult
Kudos: 3





	[TFTG] An Escalating Series of Dildos

James jumped when he heard something hit his stoop. The notification had just gone through, Amazon’s courtesy, and already frayed nerves were sparking like live wires.

“Calm down!” he yelped. “Calm down. T-that’s just…. A… present to myself…”

He decided that was a good enough alibi. Yes, a pat-on-the-back gift for a job well done, no further details on that. No no, James insists, no further details at all. Please don’t insist.

The truth of the matter was that James Fountaine had a secret impulse buy on his bank account. A terrible secret. James, plucky as he once was, turned out to be a boring English electrician as an adult. By his estimation, dull as a dishsoap and just as squeaky clean. He sailed through university without a distinguishable mark, grew a nondescript beard, cut his hair short and neat, and tried his very hardest to stick to a steady diet of takeaways and ham sandwiches, sometimes peppered.

No one, not even James, would have expected a dildo in his future.

He stared at it from the living room window, the featureless package on his stoop covered with postage. It had an intimidating aura about it. The Gamefreak sticker deflated his lungs. He sank sheepishly under the eaves and wondered if the neighbors knew.

One night, several weeks ago, he recalled navigating to the boutique shops on Amazon. The poor boy had run out of games to buy. He debated buying commissions of his original character, but that was a fraught prospect. Not even he thought his OCs were very interesting. So, James went searching, cataloguing objects of interest along trajectories of the absurd and bizarre in the online store as he snacked on curry and pet his dog Harvey. The expedition went long into the morning, until James was sure he exhausted the worst paraphernalia under the Bad Dragon brand. He thought it safe then to go to bed.

The next morning, there was a dildo-sized hole from his checking account. Lord knows how it got in there.

As inexplicable as it was, James was loath not to cancel the order and call his bank. This was his first foray into sex toys, after all, if only by accident. Turning a deliberate decision into an oopsie felt disrespectful, somehow. Who was he to deny hardworking artists their due?

Right, James Fountaine. Local good boy, whiter than Tescos white bread.

He peeked up over the eaves. Regrettably, no one had stolen the package. No one seemed interested. He’d hoped someone would decide to take the package and, perhaps, mock him in the privacy of their own home. Better than having to cut the tape yourself and face what you’ve bought.

After another minute of cowering, he wisened up. “I’ll take it in,” James muttered. “Fire a joke post on MyFace, then throw it away. It’ll be fine. Nothing worth getting...”

He shivered. “Worked up about.”

His butt clenched as he turned the knob. A small, primal part of James’ brain told him the thing would leap into his arms and attack, discarding the package as a decoy. After a small jolt, the fear proved itself to be irrational. The package sat on his welcome mat, unmoving. It was almost as big as a waste paper bin.

James looked from the Peterson townhouse to the roundabout on the edge of his hedgerow. Carefully, discreetly, he picked up the box, and shut the door behind him. He locked it, just to be sure.

Now James lived in a well-off part of England. The southern part, one of the most southern parts, in Hastings, East Sussex. He bought a townhome here four years ago, alongside the old Peterson couple to his left and Jocelyn Sweete to his right, the devil herself in studded leather. Up until today, James was content to hide in his two-story house, with its rustic brick facade, shingle roof and crotchety old boiler, until he no longer had to deal with other people; but the arrival of his package made him acutely aware of perceptions and homeowner’s associations.

The living room was clean, if featureless, but what if Margaret May decided to send in an inspector with a blacklight? The embarrassment might kill him.

It would have been a more revealing crime, of course, if he decided to do something improper with his gift. Which he certainly wasn’t about to do.

Gingerly, James set the box on his coffee table. It made a hollow thunk sound on the glass. If it were any louder, it might wake the dead.

James fetched the letter opener from his desk. He stared at the box, the opener stuck in a closed fist, stupidly clenched. Harvey cocked his head up at his master, in that way Cocker Spaniels do; curious, yet cautious.

“I don’t know,” James protested. “... maybe I shouldn’t?”

Harvey’s tail started to wag. James saw an out in procrastinating, playing with his best friend, but that would only delay the problem. He sighed, and sat down on the sofa opposite. “Right then. I should. Just, get it out of the way. You’re okay, Harvey, you’re a good boy.”

Indeed. Harvey was the goodest of boys.

James went to work. He gutted the box like a seasoned fisherman of packages. For all his recalcitrance, the man was good at unwrapping cardboard and tape, courtesy of his job. The lining came loose with a satisfy ske-craaatch, and it unwound, loop after loop, until he could unfurl the sides and let the bubble packaging drop along with several handfuls of packing peanuts. He caught the object inside before the rubber bottom hit the glass, and blanched white as plaster. Harvey stopped panting.

The thing in James’ hand was a terrible, yet gorgeous work of art. A long shaft, thirteen inches with a four inch spread at its widest. It sat on a flat rubber base that curled into a shape suggestive of (what James assumed to be) balls. The toy was smooth, glossy against the light, and colored a mix of pink, blue, white and green that swirled together like a drop of dye in cool water. Under the fixtures, it had a buoyant calmness to the color pattern, bright but without a harsh neon hue. The texture scintillated him; it coaxed him to keep squeezing and letting the ductile surface bend and push back against his fingertips, to pinch a head that looked awfully like a witch’s wide-brimmed hat.

The paper on the floor said this was the ‘Beginner’s Dildo’ (beginner for who, giants?) It said the dildo was made for inexperienced deviants only, for fans of two names he didn’t recognize. Garde… something and Hatterene. They meant very little.

James swallowed. He set the dildo down gently on the counter. It stood up, straight as a cock, which is to say it canted at a 15 degree angle, and slightly tilted to the right. Sweat beaded down his face. He realized that it was not only bigger than him - it was designed with such a flourishing curve at the tip that if he put it up his bum, it might-

He blushed. It might get stuck.

Why was he thinking such a thing? Why wasn’t he getting his phone out and snapping pictures for meme material? Why was he giving the toy the time of day at all, when he could be spending his day off doing…

Well, something.

The fixation nurtured in his head. He licked his lips, flitted his eyes furtively around the room. He clasped his hands together and felt them trembling. A smile tugged at his lips, crooked and humiliated. There was something magnetically attractive to the dildo, now that it imposed itself upon his living room. Was it the colors? The fanciful shape? The curve, promising a spearing in his guts if it got anywhere near his ass? A bewitching promise, if there ever was one. He’d never had anal play before - but where else would he put it, his mouth?

James regretted the statement almost immediately. Now he was thinking of pretending to suck it off.

“A-all for a laugh…” James said softly. “This is ridiculous…”

Soon enough, he convinced himself to go into the kitchen to get the trash bin. He came back with vaseline and the tarp from under the sink. “How did…?”

He resolved to go back for the trash bin, and came back with paper towels. “Bloody nora.”

This pattern continued. James tried dutifully for twenty minutes to bring the receptacle into the living room for proper dildo disposal, lacking the trust to take it by the handle and ditch it himself, and the only thing he managed to accomplish was pulling the table to the side, spreading the tarp, tossing his pants into the trash, kicking off his shoes, shooing away Harvey into his kennel, and managing to finally drag the bin into the room only after everything had been set up for a proper, clean exhibition.

When he realized this, James was stunned. “I don’t… want to sit on it,” he lied.

The dildo was angled at him. It seemed to stare fondly.

James rubbed the back of his neck. This was all too sudden, happening too quickly. He was being pressured, he knew - but how and why eluded his waking memory. The world seemed to want him to try, at least once, to see how far it might go. It bothered him that the universe was so insistent about it, but if nothing else, James earned his reputation as a dutiful worker by not talking back.

He edged sheepishly toward the toy, and grabbed it with his hand. The faintest idea of dildo play entered his mind.

“Just set it right here, yeah?” the bewitched man said aloud. “Apply lubricant to both, or the shaft only…?”

Dutifully, James referred to the manual that came with his dildo. After some fiddling, the cool touch of vaseline oil hit his anus. A hiss rattled out of his mouth. “F-ffffuck…”

The most optimum position, according to the guide legend labeled in Japanese, was laying the dildo down on a flat surface and letting it sliiiiide in slowly. Carpet floor with a tarp layer sufficed. It was slightly uneven, but if James squated just right, it would catch on the right… hole.

He wasn’t sure how he got this far. The dildo sat under his center of mass, and he stood, naked from the waist down save for socks. He looked over his shoulder at the thing, back again, treating it as though it was a needy spouse. After a wringing of his hands, a certain sense of finality overtook him, and James bent his knees. “Careful… caaaaareful…”

Thirty years of strain creaked at his joints. He felt like a tree finally about to come down. His arms pinwheeled until he was reasonably sure they would balance him right, and sank closer and closer to the invisible point. Uncertainty shook him, wired him in inexorable descent, until a bold point fit neatly between his cheeks.

“NGGHAA...!” A breathless moan escaped like air from a sieve. He slid back, more than he meant to, and fell on his palms with precious inches spearing into his anus. The shape he felt inside him was so much more. Feet, or maybe yards of solid, rubber object filling up his insides. It pushed into a bead of pressure in the middle of his groin, sending a half-alert dick into full readiness. James’ face flashed red. His cheeks burned, seeing himself harden up so quickly. He took several short, disbelieving breaths, before he bit his cheek and forced it down further.

“Hhhhhaaaaaaah~... A-aww fuck…”

He made it a few inches down. Not even all the way. The head was inside him. The lip of it, that witch’s cowl and pointed tip, drove itself like a spike into his core. It throbbed, a pillar of numbness between tense and exuberant muscles. The shape threatened to split him in two - but it was that same tension, the strain, that made it impossible to stop.

“B-buh… bollocks… I can do this… awww fuck, my arse….”

Penetration ran deep inside him, a violation through his whole being. His hips, somehow animated by his long, ember-stoking moans, managed to buck back up. With hands coordinating, James pushed a handful of inches out. Relief crashed up against the small of his back. The tension broke.

He lived. He lived through it. The dildo didn’t snap his fragile, mannish body in half. He panted, cheeks bright red. There was a low ache in his rectum. He deduced, correctly, that the witch cap was lodged in there, like some sort of stopper. The walls around it pulsed, irritable and sensative, and James’ dick went stiff as a rod.

It was unbelievable, but this dildo was getting him off. James was so terribly, deeply exposed, yet inexplicably, it felt good. His balls ached, his taint, still a tight knot of pleasure. Bow-legged and bent over in the middle of his own home, the lack of mobility sent a forbidden shiver up his spine. More than that - violation was triggering the hidden potential of his prostate. It would betray him, destroy him if given the chance.

What a traitorous little organ. It was only natural for James to be a bit bitter. All the same, it promised a release too good to let go. He had to cum.

James sucked in a breath. His lungs burned like a stoked steam engine. A powerful sensation fanned out, filling him from the head to the very ends of his feet and back again. Unseen instinct-thoughts carried him rhythmically. He bucked. He dug in. His toes clenched into the tarp. The foreign object reached an inch farther. He tried again, and it reached another hard-fought inch.

He jolted back, sending his balls bouncing. Only for a moment, he decided, to catch his breath. How long had he been doing this? Minutes? It felt like longer. It had become his mission, in that stupid horny brain of his, to reach all the way to the base. Swallow it completely, come hell or, well, probably worse. His penis throbbed, but the threat of orgasm wasn’t coming from it anymore. It had moved down the urethra and into the heart of his hips, where the little prostate pinched against his muscles. It hit him, then, that he was cumming with his ass. He hadn’t thought about it, but the allowance for thoughts was running dangerously low. Poor bastard had gone broke.

Need boiled up the lower reaches of his back. His joints screamed for release. He had to do something now or lock up in cramps. The inexperience of the moment weighed heavily on James, as he suddenly regretted breaching his ass with such a farce of a beginner’s dildo. Why couldn’t he have started with a butt plug?

Assiduously, James narrowed his angle of approach. With the last thoughts left, he let go. The dildo slid upward, like an elevator falling in reverse, until-

It crashed. “FFFFuhhhhh…! Hhhhhhnnnn…”

James felt the tarp. He felt the hilt, and the ball-shaped prongs of the base, all riding a round ring between his cheeks. His ass was so sore, it transmuted, turning with alchemical swiftness from pain to a feedback loop of raw, exhausted relief. There was a brief spasm nearby, and sperm dribbled out of a painfully hard penis. He could almost say he felt sorry for it.

The high lasted a minute. When he came down, James became aware of something strange: the pillared feeling was gone. His guts had turned empty.

He hoisted himself up on his feet, and found only a stump of a sex toy, bit off at the base. The air conditioning hit his swollen pucker. It made the thing feel like a donut smuggled between bubbles. Sweaty, squishable, unmistakably round.

The only thing James noticed out of all of this was that his toy was missing. Not, in fact, that his anus had grown at least half its size bigger and turned off-pink. Neither that the dildo had dissolved in his system, leaving his abdominal muscles tingly. His fingertips had fun down there, ignorant of the change. Nor was he aware of a baby-blue witch’s hat on his head, a wide circumference that rimmed around his hairline with no visible way to remove it. Nor too, did he spot the soft divide in his taint, though it was tender, oozing joy whenever walked.

These were all things James Hatter, formerly Fountaine, took for granted about himself. Reality had shifted, and his understanding of self lurched along with it, so that he was now at least part Pokemon, and part buttslut. The curse had seeped in and the poor boy was helplessly entranced. His transformation into a fairy pokemon had begun.

And all he could think about was ordering more toys.

Shipped to: (James Hatter)  
35 Abbotsfield Cl, Hastings TN34 2DT,  
United Kingdom

Delivered 23rd January 2021  
Your parcel has been left near the front door or porch. Enjoy!

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The next few days were splendiferously loud.

“Nnnnguuuh! Oh my~” And exciting, to stretch the word.

There were many different kinds of stretching going on in the Hatter house. By the morning after his initial experiment, James’ address, ID and bills were all showing a new name, evolving alongside his fixation with the Gamefreak boutique. Not that he caught the change, he certainly did not, but totality had begun to set in in ways that bothered the neighbors, in a roundabout case of subconscious growing pains.

Namely, that there was a sense that something was amiss.

A homeowner’s association meeting was scheduled on the 22nd, an urgent request to sort out tax documents. By then, James had ordered the next set, but had somehow gotten the idea that he could practice with the end of a candle. He had to end a session early to make the meeting, and by the time he had arrived, the man had somehow managed to get into a pair of his old slacks.

Margaret May ran her fingers through all of James Hatter’s documentation, threading every page, as the town council watched in a semi-circle of folding chairs. James squirmed, worried, but also deeply blue-balled. His cock had grown, and so had his anus, and they were both hideously stretching either end of his trousers, to the point the neighbors could see an imprint of the donut-shaped pucker between feminine hips.

“Mr. Hatter?”

James bolted upright. “I-I didn’t do anything!”

Margaret May regarded him quizzically. “... we didn’t accuse you of anything?”

The look she gave him was severe, but understanding. She set the documents aside and folded her hands. “There was a mild discrepancy in the archives, and just to be clear, James Fountaine is not one of your aliases? It’s not listed anywhere?”

“No?” James said. He shimmied his hips, struggling not to indulge himself in front of a crowd. An itch had taken hold in the predictable place.

Jocelyn opened her mouth to say something, but Margaret cut her off. “It was brought to our attention that one of the landscaping contract forms you signed in 2016 has a different case. We will open an inquiry in the matter, but it seems like an error.”

The town council were a terrifying entity, so much as they represented James’ source of income and the potential eyes of judgment should his, ahem, debauchery become public. But even now, he was having difficulty thinking about social consequences. His mouth went dry. “Yes. An error... haha.”

No one seemed amused. “Please don’t let it happen again, Mr. Hatter. We try to keep an orderly community in Hastings.”

James bowed his head, tipping the hat bound to his head. The other eight members of the town council, including Mr. Reid, gave their approval for new business. There was some mention of a new contract mending the lamp posts, but James had lost focus the moment budgetary concerns were being voiced. His mind was somewhere else.

Like, why am I so… bloody pent up…?!

The night became a blur. He remembered a few pertinent questions from the devil next door, and then appearing back in his home, without any memory of wandering back. His ass had grown so desperately sore in the presence of others that James tore his trousers down the seat trying to get it off. He bent over the arm of his sofa (after dutifully taking out his spaniel dog) and proceeded to finger himself for hours.

The morning came. So did he, eventually, but when he heard the whine of brake pads by the street, James was instantly revived. The refractory period of his sex was getting faster. It had reduced his crotch to a dull static of pleasurable aches, as the corrupting influence of the dildo spread its tendrils deeper.

He was no longer afraid of the packages. On the contrary - minutes after the postman dropped them off, he collected three new boxes and scuttled back inside with a hungry grin on his face.

“Thank Arceus they’re here…” James didn’t know what an Arceus was, but it meandered out of his mouth with purpose, and he wasn’t inclined to argue with himself.

The two smaller parcels were the next size above beginner, an ‘Adept’s Pleasure.’ He furtively unwrapped them, unfurling a tape measure in an uncharacteristic show of scrutiny. Fifteen inches long, six inches thick. The two had a Gardevoir’s hair quoife for a tip, and veins sporadically modeled along the length. The material was harder, some sort of resin, and it was a dual chromatic of green and white, with a small bulb of red sitting under the urethra.

He imagined it breaking the seal of his anus, and the thought ripped a shudder through his body. “Ohh… oh, gawd, that’s gonna feel so good…”

The impetus to throw away his paraphernalia had all but disappeared. The giddiness remained, metastasizing from a sense of taboo to an almost voyeuristic concern. He worried about being found out with an erotic air to the backend, fantastizing as he unrolled the freshly hosed tarp and a new bottle of vaseline. The possibility of being discovered hilt-deep in his own home sent him on an invigorating high. Jocelyn’s eyes, especially. Their milky blue gaze, watching him prostate himself, it made him light-headed.

Unfortunately, the sensation wasn’t entirely a metaphor. A lack of oxygen to the brain, combined with reality-altering molecules in his veins, were siphoning off intellect. He was getting dumber for playing with his ass.

“Come on, now… you’re gonna be so fun~”

Dumber in a specific way. It crept into his speech, more than his thoughts. The carbonation of ditzy bubble thoughts, slowly beginning to fizz with sexual desire and leak out the unwritten rules of masculinity.

James giggled, squatting over the dildo with an experienced stance he didn’t have days prior. Anticipation gnawed at him like a bitter cold. He leveled. His knees bent, until the new shape tickled his sweaty hole and pressed needfully in.

He sucked in air through his teeth. Color drained from his face. “A-aaaah…”

All of the color. The complexion faded. His eyes widened into almond shapes between blinks, irises mixing orange and green hues. Eyebrows became pink dots on a sea of white. Hair trickled out like beads of sweat, turning from everyman brown to a crisp gradient of pink to dark blue.

He sank deeper upon the impaling toy. All around it, white pigment seeped into his hips, the muscles of his ass. Strength followed, with fat not far behind. His thighs bulged as slow undulations grew faster, growing a layer of padding and distinct, feminine curve. He didn’t have to hold himself up by his arms anymore. The legs were doing it for him.

The more he moaned, the longer the notes drew, like drags on a powerful cigarette. Fuck, he wanted one now. Not for the nicotine, but for something to occupy his mouth…

Somewhere in the process, he discovered the hole he seemingly always had. After orgasm, James spotted the folds of labia lips peeking out behind his scrotum. It was crowded, but still functional, if a little sensitive to touch.

It then occurred to James that he was a hermaphrodite. This was worrying, initially, until he remembered that this wasn’t new, nor all that important in the existential side of things. What was really important was that he had two holes now.

No. No, he had three. James had three holes. His vagina, his mouth, and a hungry ass. Conveniently, perhaps by intelligent design, there were three dildos.

Now, James was getting progressively worse at math, but he spotted a definite answer to this equation that involved a quick hydration and a new application of lube...

Shipped to: (Matilda Hattervoir)  
35 Abbotsfield Cl, Hastings TN34 2DT,  
United Kingdom

Delivered 2nd Feb 2021  
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Jocelyn Carter was troubled.

Her neighbor, the reclusive Pokemon person Matilda Hattervoir, was acting awfully strange, and it wasn’t due to the toys. Everyone knew he (or, was it she?) was buying sex toys on Amazon.co.uk. It was an open secret, not necessarily one people understood, but the general consensus was to be a good neighbor, and not question how one hermaphrodite ran through several kilograms of equipment in a week. They heard about it at night. Increasingly, they heard about it during the day. He, she, they were having a good time, evidently.

No, she was concerned because Matilda had mail piling up in their box. One was labeled ‘James Fountaine,’ a handful after that ‘James Hatter,’ and it was difficult to shake the feeling that reality was trying to gaslight her.

It led her to wonder what exactly was going on in that house.

When a truck arrived on the 2nd of February with a push cart and a pile of boxes taller than she was, Jocelyn followed. She waited until the boxes were dropped off at the front porch door before hurrying to the door and knocking.

Hastings houses tended to have three locks. Given the idyllic state of the neighborhood, no one used more than one at the time - except, apparently, Matilda. Jocelyn fit her hands into her leather jacket’s pockets, trying not to be suspicious.

The door opened a crack, and Matilda’s eyes peered out. “Liiiike… hi.” Matilda drawled.

“Hi,” said Jocelyn. She instantly felt obnoxious. “How’s it goin’? It’s nippy out. Wanted to say hello. We haven’t, well, talked very much.”

The bimbo furrowed her brow. “My dildos.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“You’re, like, standing in front of my dildos?”

Jocelyn blinked incredulously. She looked over her shoulder. “Aaaah, yeah. Yeah, that’s true. Terribly sorry, but this is about the only time I see you outside.”

“Are you asking for an invitation?”

Jocelyn blinked with even more incredulity. The comment knocked her off balance. “Wot?”

“I’ll totally let you try one. Just stop standing out here like a dumb slut~”

Jocelyn blushed. Matilda giggled airily. While it was true that Joss dommed on Saturdays, that didn’t make her a slut. She bit down indignant anger and smiled wanly. This was near to the only chance to see what life was like in the home of this slutty witch. “Aaaaaalright. Okay. Sure, I’ll try one.”

Matilda shut the door, undid the chain lock, and opened it fully to reveal her massive self. “Okaaaay~ You help me move this in. Take it to the room with the tarp laid out, okay honey~?”

Jocelyn pinched back a humorless grin. Patience. Time to play the role of investigative reporter and figure out how Matilda existed, what exactly rang uncanny bells in her head.

The figure in the door trotted away, ostensibly to put away the dog but it was hard for Joss to believe. Matilda was bottomless, and showing off everything. She had become a stacked creature in the two weeks she had spent experimenting with dildos. Concentrated residue from the toys turned her ass and hips into puffy cushions, surrounding an 8 inch diameter anus without a hope of containing it. It tremored and squished as thick thighs thumped on clean carpets, swollen to the point of exposing it to the air. No wonder the heat wasn’t on. She wanted a cool breeze on it at all times.

She was white head to toe, the white of stardust, dreams, and fresh cum. Breaks in that color came at red nipples (Joss noted 6 inches of puffy bulge under a stretchy yoga shirt, one per boob globe), at the green blades protruding from her forearms that merged into three-fingered hands, and along several feet of hair that trailed down her shoulders and the small of her back, bobbing up and down as she moved. They were colored like dawn clouds, purple bleeding into pinks and reds. Matilda was almost certain they felt like clouds too.

Joss didn’t know it then, but she was gawking at a fusion of two things. Gardevoir and Hatterene, and male and female. A hermaphrodite.

She saw the herm’s cock, and pointedly looked away. Why did the largest dick she’d ever seen have to belong to her neighbor? It needed to be contained - but Joss was acutely aware that two feet of dick and eight inches of asshole would make quick work of any sort of underwear. She doubted it could fit a mortal cunt. 3 inches thick tore some girls outright. It was easier, maybe, to let it hang loose, but it was embarrassing to have to see it out in the open with its green tip so prominently engorged.

Joss tried to focus on something else. Surprisingly, the house was clean. Foyer, bathroom, kitchen, even the living room had looked recently vacuumed and sponged. There was a hint of sex odor in the air - but the source could have been the residue on Matilda’s body. The other hint was dog hair, and she remembered, faintly, that Matilda had a pet. Charming.

The strange witch herm knelt to give her dog a treat, before sending him out into the backyard through a sliding glass door.

“Is he going to be okay?” Joss found herself asking without thinking.

“What? He’s fine, he likes running around~”

Joss always worried for pets around perverts, but that seemed innocuous enough. She set the boxes down, one by one, at the center of a tarp that really should have smelled worse than it did. “If you don’t mind me asking, how long do you usually…”

Matilda took the smallest of packages out of Joss’ hand. “All day. He comes in during breaks. I give him water, and he’s like, totally happy about it, it’s the cutest thing.”

Joss was stunned. She frowned in consternation. “All day?”

“Mhm~” Matilda said.

She wanted to ask ‘how do you manage to run the wash,’ but the bimbo witch twiddled her fingers, gave life to a floating array of box-cutting objects, and Joss promptly lost whatever she’d attempted to say.

“Liiiike,” Matilda interjected stupidly. Her brain sputtered until the next thought came through. “You wanna have fun, or am I on like After Day, or whatever?”

“After Dark,” Joss said reflexively. She found a barstool to slough upon. “I’m just… concerned, I guess. I have the sneaking suspicion that this isn’t- well, I guess the word is tenable.”

Indeed, Matilda’s electrician job had evaporated out of local causality. She simply didn’t have a job - but she still possessed a massive savings account from a previous life. The tides of time were generous.

Matilda tittered, finally, digging her hands in. “Come to momma…”

“There’s also the fact that I keep seeing mail with the name ‘James’ on it, which is weird, put lightly. It’s harrowing to suggest that someone else might live here, but I’m really starting to think Mary above, that’s not right-”

Matilda revealed a monster of a dildo from the bubble wrap. It came folded in the box, but unfurled, it was a staff of a toy, extending three feet long in either direction. Twin-tipped, double-ended, meeting in the middle with a bulge at the seam where the silicone was bonded between two distinct dildos. It was white, with pink accents, cute for a toy meant for two women.

Joss’ jaw fell open. She covered her mouth. “... did you order that for this other guy, or…?”

“Nope,” Matilda chimed, giving the double-ended dildo a wiggle. “It’s really bendy, so like, I was gonna stick it in both my holes and see what happens?”

“That’s insane-”

“It’s fuuuun, eheehee~ Like you’re not jealous.”

“I’m not…!” Joss couldn’t finish. She was having trouble affirming her commitment to normalcy. Staring at the porous surface shook her resolve. The woman, once confident and studded with enough piercings to be intimidating, now seemed small in the face of it. She was transfixed.

“... maybe… something…” she couldn’t believe the words trying to come out. “... smaller? I-I can’t put that in me, that would kill me.”

“Ah well,” Matilda said, as if mortality was a bit mundane. “Lemme get something that fits, kay?”

Joss didn’t agree to trying out toys, but she was left in the lurch of what she thought she wanted. She wanted to profile Matilda, sure, and solve the case of the missing man on 35 Abbotsfield, but the glossy texture of the double-headed dildo staff called to her. She didn’t have to leave on a bad note, did she…?

The whole situation was absurd, but it was the sort of dream logic that propelled individuals into their darkest fantasies. Casual chains that wrapped around their victims and pulled them along. Joss was struggling to make sense. The idea of trying a dildo in a stranger’s home oozed a certain, unexplainable familiarity that bothered her, but couldn’t rouse the skeptical mind from sleep.

She was dumbly feeling up the dildo staff when Matilda presented one of the toys from the January 23rd order. Joss squeaked. “Holy- fuck. Where’s my head at?”

Matilda squatted, getting Joss’ face. “It’s my smallest size. You can give this a try until you’re big enough~”

Joss nodded along, unsure what she meant but unwilling to argue. “I-it’s still not, ah.” She composed herself. “It’s too big for me.”

“Not there, dummy~”

Joss gave the bimbo woman another blank stare until Matilda turned around. Joss grimaced. “Oh.”

She meant the ass.

She looked back at the thing, with its white body and green, rounded head. She’d taken large insertions before, but it seemed even less likely that it would fit up her ass than her cunt.

Matilda spun back around again, hair fluttering in curly waves. The grin she wore was criminal. Her voice sank low. “Like I said, you’ll totally grow into it. Give it a shot, cutiepie, just one~”

That was the kind of language that came with drug pushing, and Joss was immediately apprehensive. She opened her mouth to protest, but her eyes caught on the dildo again, and her resistance melted. There was a certain sort of challenge being lodged, impugned on Joss’ character. She could take that. Maybe. If Joss really wanted to extricate herself, it wouldn’t hurt her to at least… shove it up there, and show that it just couldn’t be done.

Nervousness wracked her, but at the same time, defiance. The world was warping around the dildos and their possessive qualities, to the point that neither woman could think very many degrees away from their presence. Neither were aware they had been snared. How could they be?

With little more than recalcitrance left to hold her back, Joss decided to give it a go. She discarded her torn jeans with a huff, then her panties with an upturned chin. Once naked from the waist down (and only flustered instead of utterly embarrassed), she took herself and the dildo to the center of the tarp. “That’s quite ominous you know? Grow into it? Hmmph.”

Matilda stuck out her tongue. She collected her onahole. The thought of penetrating it made her stare hungrily. “Heeeee… you’re talking like you aren’t about to spear your ass on a dildo.”

“Hushush! This is peer pressure, Matilda. I’m not… hmph, spearing my ass.”

A tiny part of Joss wondered how they could be so casual about this, but the concern was fleeting. It was natural to squirt lube on her hands and scrub it in.

That gave Matilda an idea. “Hey, Jossy! You, like, need any help with that?”

“I’ve taken a dildo before,” Joss said, conversationally indignant. “But fine, I’ll bite - what do you mean by help?”

Matilda rubbed a squirt of vaseline into her hands. She came close and Joss, unprepared, pivoted on her squat. They shared a moment, a blush on the human’s face. Matilda grinned wryly. “Lubing up your butt, obs. Silly.”

Joss pouted. “I’m not silly…” That wasn’t a no. She turned around. Matilda sidled behind her, with a movement that was too deft for James to have pulled off, but just deft enough for a Pokemon that had trained what felt like countless days. Her hands were swift. Joss worried what they might feel like, until a cold finger poked into her asshole.

She hissed. “A-ah! Cold… that’s like, real cold…”

“Gotta get it in nice’n deep…” Matilda said. She leveled close to Joss’s ears, until she could hear the herm’s humming resonating. It was almost deafening. Her thoughts tuned out. Boobs mashed into her shoulder blades. The herm’s body, warm with affection and wet with sweat, surrounded Joss from multiple angles. A wash of warm feelings, centered around thick fingers exploring around her forbidden zone, Atomized bits of trepidation shrank even further. It changed states, turning into a new medium, a blanket of soft, pliable intimacy.

Joss sucked in air. She fell into the crook of the herm’s neck. Her scent swept inside her. It was all Joss could do not to get lost in it.

The brain drain had started. Slow, but uncompromising. Joss wouldn’t even be aware of it, now that the herm’s musk had dug into her brains and twisted the neurons like pretzels. “A-are you done yet?” she asked, weaker than she wanted.

Matilda scooped her digits inside. She coaxed a squeak out of Joss. “FUCK me! Ohhh, fuck…”

“Ready to go~” Matilda whispered. Joss nodded sharply. Bubbling fantasy had started to dribble into her head. The dildo drew her attention back, until it became a fixation to screw her ass on it. She looked back. Matilda was angling it under her cheeks.

Just two horny feminine creatures, she knew in the pit of her stomach. Matilda wouldn’t fuck her in the ass - not yet. That would come later. It didn’t occur to her minutes before, when she still could think straight, but now she was starting to envy that dick, stuck in the open air, throbbing needfully.

Matilda chortled. Joss’ face went hot. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, babe,” Matilda said with valley girl swagger. “I’m like, gonna try this fucking onahole while you get fucked in your fucking ass.”

“God,” Joss shuddered. A cold sweat swept around the fat boobs. Matilda smooshed them in. Electric crackles of pleasure danced between nerve-endings - as if nipples and back muscles were diodes and antipodes on a lewd generator battery. The woman’s shirt smeared with it all, rapidly wettening down. The whole of her back, neck down the spine to her tailbone, was a slick expanse that rippled, and pulled tight, and hosted the witch pokemon’s genitals as if it’d been offered to her mouth. What a treat that’d be, Joss thought dimly.

Matilda bucked her hips up. She felt the onahole on her spine before the tye-dye dick. Both were hit with sweat, and then the running ooze of lube as Matilda filled the remainder she hadn’t stuck in Joss’ ass up into the rubbery accessory. Joss took this as a signal to move.

A worry nagged at her - about decoupling from this hug once her partner started jerking at a different tempo. They had suddenly, abruptly come to a crossroads. Would they have to enjoy themselves on different terms? Masturbate in cold isolation?

It didn’t last long. Joss felt a bladed arm come around. It janked her close. Matilda’s dick slid at an angle, squishing into the lube-soaked toy. The motion destabilized Joss’ hips, and she fell backwards until she collided with a tower.

“HHHkkk-” And buried itself several inches up.

It was a hazardous position. Joss felt her joints seize up, burning tension working up her legs. Matilda went to work behind her, moaning in her bubblegum sweetness. Her toy bounced, almost frictionless, as the creature’s penis slid inside and made the sides bulge to contain it.

“Pfffhaaa~” Matilda scoffed, caught up in her own short breaths. “It barely fits me~”

“S-speak for yourself!” Joss sputtered. “It’s…nnngh, fuuuck, tearing me in half!”

Stupid interjections were becoming much more common. Whether prompted by presence or seeping in through infections, Joss couldn’t stop filling the empty spaces in her thought processes with likes, totallies, shyeahs, and the backwash of vapid, American bimboism. It grew in her, spread its culture around her head, as the grunting magnified and more and more of the dildo crept up into her ass.

Unbeknownst to her, the circumference of her donut was swelling, and her asscheeks were turning a naked alabaster white. A blurry line of color that was eroding her humanity, and making everything behind it fatter, and noisier with each squat thrust.

“Gggghk… gaaaaawd, fuck!” Joss heaved. She felt a pressure knot up in her stomach. “What’s hap-... haah… uurp-”

She let a burp out. She didn’t even feel it coming, until it was too late to stifle it down. Matilda took notice. They stopped for a second, and listened out for a long, groaning churn of inner organs.

Joss glanced down at her stomach, then back at Matilda in shock. She was flashing a grin, until her own belly made insistent noises.

“Uh oh.” Neither of them paid attention to the warning sticker on the onahole. Neither of them saw it. They were too busy succumbing to the dildo’s desire, and thus, they were unaware of the gas they were starting to take on, until it was too late.

“What uh ohhh… ohhh, gawd- URP-” Joss covered her mouth in a hurry. Pressure mounted, her stomach rounded out with a tightening bloat, until it was stretched, taut as it would go. Her midsection squeezed on her.

“Ha, y-you feeling gassy too~?” Matilda sang. She let out a rip of a fart.

Joss swallowed. “Is that what…” she winced. It was building, a bubbled in her center, until it commandeered her mouth again with a hiccup of a burp. “Fuck! I-I can’t-”

She realized what was wrong, why it was bottling her up. The dildo in her ass made it impossible to expel gas. Not without savaging her mind with pleasurable aftershocks. Barreling an eruption of gas through a tender anus, already stretched raw, was a terrible plan. She was grateful to whatever Pokegod existed out there (opposed to the actual ‘gawd’ she explitived not a second ago) that kept it from naturally sending her overboard.

Her focus was well and duly gone. Matilda laughed and laughed, intercut with burps and farts that filled the living room with her noxious scent. All of Joss’ senses were stressed. She was drowning in it. Burping uncontrollably, seeing stars in her eyes, clutching her gut, sweating profusely, basking in the heat of both their bodies, tasting musk and stink on her tongue.

The persona she’d crafted had collapsed. She was no longer steel - the steel inside her was melting. She was already fucking herself on the dildo again, and one hand, enterprising and traitorous, drifted down to the cunt to enjoy herself while she was trapped under so many forces pressing down on her brain.

Oh. Oh delightful. Joss found her clit sticking out. It bulged between her fingers. Because of course, Pokemon like her had big, swaggering cocks.

Pokemon like her. The change in species was instinctual, like a switch flipped in her head.

The rim forming around her hair widened, until it resembled the start of a hat. The color was draining. Her eyes were changing shape, and straw-blonde hair was turning into a tumbling cotton-soft mass.

She had no criticality like this, no presence of mind.

She couldn’t stop Matilda from using her shoulder blades as a paizuri vice, nor could she stop herself from falling off the edge of a cliff, and rapidly approaching a distinctly otherworldly orgasm.

Matilda held her tight. Joss found the chance to kiss her neckline between burps.

Two normal types now utterly fucked, ensconced in the influence of their toys. Somewhere in the orgy, hours after it started, their types shifted, moved inexorably to a more appropriate mix. Faery, psychic, stupid, gassy while horny, and so sexually active that cumming once was foreplay, and soon…

Cumming twice was the first course.

Shipped to: (Matilda Hattervoir)  
35 Abbotsfield Cl, Hastings TN34 2DT,  
United Kingdom

Delivered 21st Feb 2021  
Your parcel has been left near the front door or porch. Enjoy!

Pokemon Replica Fusion Type (G/H), Gigantamax Ass Destroyer  
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Jocelyn Garderene tried not to make a habit of sleepovers. It was difficult to avoid them. She was spending so much time at her partner’s home…

“Like... gaawwwd!”

“Matilda, like, spot me! It’s goin’ in deeeep!”

… that the dust and dishes were starting to pile up. She wasn’t used to staying at home, but ever since she’d become obsessed with violating her ass, Joss had started to neglect the house. It wouldn’t have killed her to break out the Swiffer, take out the garbage, but really, it was a place to crash between sessions now, not necessarily a place to live. She didn’t mind.

She was rather cozy staying at Matilda’s place for days on end.

As it happened, the two humans completed their transformation in record time. As individual intimacies stretched into day-long orgies, their bodies grew, and their brains steadily shrank. Joss caught up quickly, but Matilda certainly had ground to cover. Their thighs ballooned as their asses overtook them, growing wider than their shoulder blades and stuffed with layers of musculature and fat.

They had to be big for eight inch anuses. The kind that wink out to the neighbors when they scamper out to check the mail. Taking turns, of course - neither deigning to wear bottoms, and both taking a perverse glee in being naked in public. Slick, dark-pink Pokemon anus was the obvious taboo, no matter how turgid their ankle-slapping cocks and round their pumpkin-sized scrotums got.

Just two Hatterenes being pals. That’s what they told the town council.

It was hard to argue against them, since public indecency was only a valid charge when the plaintiff had clothes they could wear. Retroactive cuts to reality took away any leeway Margaret May and the other neighbors had about their conduct, seeing as how Matilda and Joss were, and had always been, their extremely lewd selves.

The council slapped a fine on their doors and called it a day.

Meanwhile, the two expanded their boundaries. The Gamefreak store seemingly never ran out of new tiers of size to try. The Double Pleasure set lasted only a couple of days, before its raw girth had become dull. The novelty wore off, so they tried Legendary size - which lasted all of three sessions before it too was a boring stick of silicone and metal.

Joss was beginning to suspect (dimly) that the two fusion herms were growing pocket dimensions in their stomachs. If that were true, then they wouldn’t keep bottling up with gas whenever they boned down.

“I’m cumming! URRRP! I’m cumming outta my ass~”

Though fortunately, fairy/psychic type biology improved the girls’ stamina. They were getting to the point of speaking full sentences while hilt deep in their favorite toys.

By the latter half of February, they were practically identical. Corruption had turned them into mixes of Hatterene, Gallade and Gardevoir, whose only differences were found in their hair color and the very slight change in tone. Eight feet tall, and perhaps six feet wide. They had identical impossibly big busts, immense asses, and even the same tilt in their dicks at full erection.

It was beginning to become a problem, since more than once, they forgot their names, and confused one for the other.

Not that it mattered. Names, it was decided, were stupid. Like, come on. Who thought about names? Who cared about individual distinctiveness, when they were starting to feel each other out with the natural six sense of a psychic type, and commanding magic across the house?

The only thing that mattered to the two Pokemon now was sexual gratification. Well, that wasn’t true. Not completely. Harvey mattered too. They cared for him between bursts of sexual frenzy, making sure he ate consistently and got plenty of time out of the house, before the sounds and the smells started up again.

The two Garderenes had no jobs. No real presence in the world. The only thing they cared to think about between psionic bursts of horny release were bigger and bigger toys.

Their lives had devolved to an escalating series of dildos, and they were all the happier for it.

In fact, one had just come by delivery.

“Oooh, lemme see!”

“This is totally a special occasion…”

In one month, Joss and Matilda blew past the standard sizes. Larges were yesterday’s crowning achievement - they had gotten to the in-store equivalent of XXXL dildos, urethral beads, anal beads, butt plugs, bondage straps and leather. There was even a pyramid of vaseline bottles left standing in the study as a testament to how much they played every day.

Today, though? Today was a new frontier, a new ambition they fawned over, that they openly dreamed about.

“The uh… oh fuck me, I can’t freaking read, gawd…”

“Is that…?”

It was a toy known only by its ominous designation: the Arceus Godhood special.

They gasped in awe. Looked at each other. And drew long, stupid grins.

~ Fin ~


End file.
